Name Your Word for 2016

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I met a friend for drinks last night and the conversation turned (as it is apt to when women and wine are involved) to where we are in life, where we’ve been and where we aim to go.

My friend mentioned a trend that had gone around Facebook where you were asked to choose a word that would define you for the New Year—the idea being to select a word that you can use as a touch point or beacon to guide future acts and decisions.

I went home and thought about what my word might be. A few months ago I asked a number of friends and colleagues to use one word to describe me and the word that came up over and over again was “driven.” I like driven. It speaks to who I am. However, it doesn’t resonate with me as a word I want to use to guide my actions.

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What’s That Pounding In My Head?

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How did I let it come to this?

For years, I’ve eschewed caffeine. I don’t drink soda and while I can down a big gulp of coffee a day, I’ve always kept it decaf. (I just like the warmth and taste.)

But last year our office got a fancy-schmancy new coffee maker that only serves leaded and so, cup-by-cup, I allowed myself to be drawn into the underworld of caffeine. When you layer in the fact that my gym serves free coffee in the morning (It’s free! At the gym!), suddenly I’m up to 4-5 cups a day.

I took PTO yesterday and had a pounding headache all day. Was I sick? Dealing with a lack of sleep? Had I inadvertently watched a Trump ad? No, none of the above. I’d just been home, alone, without the java. (Side note: Everything Trump does gives me a pounding headache. Everything.)

So I’ve recommitted. I’ll keep my morning coffee, just because I like hanging out with my crew of retirees in the mornings. But during the day, it’s decaf only. That means Keurig and/or instant decaf coffee for me. Or else a whole lotta money for the nearest Starbucks.

Forgive me if I’m cranky the rest of the week. It’ll pass.

Cheers,

Dena

Slowing Down to Speed Up - Part II

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I kicked off 2016 with a post about how I was taking the next 8-10 weeks to slow down my training, building an aerobic base where I never exceed a 140 max heart rate. This requires running slow, walking hills and sitting on my bum in spin class when everyone else is popping up and down for intervals.

In short, it sucks. 

I was near tears on a treadmill run on Thursday. Not only could I not maintain a consistent heart rate--jumping from 128 to 162 back down to 118 (seriously?)--I couldn't run much above a 9:40/minute pace. I ended my "workout" feeling extremely frustrated and low. Having to step off the treadmill every two minutes to get your heart rate down makes for a disjointed and highly unsatisfying workout. 

Two things happened to pull me out of my funk. 

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Ding-Dong, The Mouse Is Dead

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There can be only one.

Sad, but true. And since I pay the rent, the one is me, last survivor standing in the battle of woman against mouse.

Last night, in an all out effort to rid myself of the beast, I stopped by CVS on my way home from work and bought every mousetrap they had. (Sounds more impressive than it is—they only had five.) Then I mixed sugar into my almond butter, smeared it on some Paleo bread—it’s hard to find bait when you eat Paleo—and baited the traps. I strategically placed them in the pantry, by the fridge, under the sink and in the kitchen towel drawer.  Then I went to bed and waited.

Sure enough, this morning there was a dead mouse in the pantry trap. The cheap one that cost .99 cents. While I’m happy to be rid of the mouse, I dislike a violent death and so had a moment of silence for him. If I had a bugle, I would have played taps.

The cat remains aloof. Ever since he released the mouse into my home, he’s shown no interest in sniffing, tracking or catching said mouse. That little sh**.

While I’m relieved the mouse is gone, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fear what’s to come. It seems like the cat is slowly building momentum with the critters it invites into our home. First it was a frog, then a lizard, than a baby bunny and now a mouse. Can an anaconda or a rabid possum be far behind?

Dear CVS: please stock up now. Chances are good that I’m going to need some bigger traps.

Cheers,

Dena